


Please

by Lancre_witch



Category: Legacy of Kain
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Soul Reaver, at least it's light for LoK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 12:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13681368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lancre_witch/pseuds/Lancre_witch
Summary: That such a simple word could have so many meanings across the centuries.





	Please

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GothieCakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothieCakes/gifts).



> For GothieCakes, who wanted to read more of my Raziel/Kain fics (several months ago! This did not want to be written)

Kain had expected some paternal instincts to emerge by now, but he still barely thought of the fledgelings as his. He heard muffled thumps in the next room as his brood fought in their shared bed in this small stolen cottage. A few moments later the door to his own room opened. Gentle yet insistent tugs at the comforter made him look up into the golden eyes of his firstborn.

“Please.” The childe looked at him so sweetly as he tried to lever enough of the covers out of Kain’s grasp to snuggle in next to him.

Kain knew he was being played and, worse, that it was working. He sighed. “Just don’t keep me awake.”

*

The battle had not gone well. The only thing which could be said was that none of Kain’s brood were actually dead. Melchiah had required stitches and skin and his sire’s blood, and it was only after the final wound had closed that Kain realised another one of his children was missing.

He found Raziel crouched in the shell of a burnt out house digging barbed arrowheads from his flesh. Deep gouges on his arms showed where sword blows had been deflected, but not well enough. Kain’s claws crunched on the rubble as he approached and Raziel looked up in a panic which did not abate when he saw his master.

“Sire, I’m sorry. Please, I can-”

“Drink, child.” Kain offered his neck and stroked Raziel’s hair as he drank, glad to see the livid wounds knitting shut, and removed the remaining arrowheads as gently as he could.

In all the centuries he had lived as a vampire, this was the only spilled blood which had sickened him. He realised, sitting in that blackened shell of a house, that he cared more for Raziel than anything else in Nosgoth and the thought terrified him.

*

“I am entirely yours. Please, sire, do with me as you will.” Raziel knelt before the throne and Kain thanked God that they were in private. He had always vowed not to emulate Vorador in this regard, but Raziel sorely tried his resolve. As clan patron, highest lord save for Kain himself, he could have had his pick of Nosgoth’s fairest, but had never had eyes for anyone but his sire. When he was young, it was easy to write it off as hero worship, but now the truth seemed quite clear. Kain was never one to refuse such a willing victim.

There were more pleas in the night, spilling from Raziel’s kiss bruised lips. Emperor he may have been, but Kain gave in to him utterly.

*

“Please, no,” Kain whispered. The threads of time wove together in many patterns, but one scene was constant. The time stream flowed with dreadful inevitability towards that fateful hour, the execution of his first born and best beloved. The vision played itself out again.

_“Please, sire, don’t do this,” Raziel croaked from where he lay in a crumpled bloody heap before the abyss._

_Kain looked into his pretty eyes for the last time and that almost broke him. He turned away to hide the gathering tears and gave the order which would echo down the centuries._

_“Cast him in.”_


End file.
